


Look, Ma! No Hands!

by amanda_jolene



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Gen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanda_jolene/pseuds/amanda_jolene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn joins that exclusive club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look, Ma! No Hands!

The first time they have sex, she doesn’t finish.

Well, she does (Finn Nelson would never ride a girl hard and put her up wet) but it’s only after he’s had his and it’s by his mouth and fingers. She enjoys it all the same but he stays awake and tries to figure out exactly what he did wrong because he had desperately wanted their first time together to be great for her.

The second time is much of the same. 

And the third time, he thrusts a hand between them and rubs and flicks and coaxes her orgasm out of her because he’s almost mad with the want of feeling her come unglued around him. He figures it’s cheating but it’s the first time they come together, the first time she comes with something more than his fingers thrusting into her and she cries after, something she didn’t even do after their first time (but he did, just a little, if he’s honest) and he wishes he would have thought to do this sooner, pride be damned. 

He learns her fast. Knows how much pressure to apply with his thumb, learns that he can squeeze multiples out of her by sliding his fingers until her clit was pressed firmly between and rocking side to side. She doesn’t complain (and honestly, he figures she doesn’t care) that he can’t get her off without some nudging but it’s a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he still hasn’t figured out how to press into her just so, hasn’t found the right rhythm. 

Things start to change one night in the backseat of his car. It’s cramped and they’re in a hurry (well lit parking lots are not the best place to park but his pants are around his knees before his brain catches up and well, it was too late then) and her legs are pressed a little tighter together and when he shifts, one of them ends up a bit over his arm and she moans so loud that the birds outside the car get startled and fly away (he’ll think of this later as God giving him a sign that was he was on the path to setting her hands-free-orgasm loose). But it doesn’t happen that night (he thinks it was about to happen but her noises had him on an impossible ledge and he nearly bites through his lip and finishes her with his mouth and then again with his fingers). 

He thinks about it too much but he can’t stop himself. At first he thinks it was the friction, her legs being more closed that had almost got her there (he had enjoyed that quite a bit, too) but then he reckons it couldn’t have been that because they had fallen open when his arm had hooked under knee and… and…

The next time they find themselves naked and alone, he wastes no time in folding her leg over his arm and she laughs a bit and questions, “What are you doing?” 

“Just trust me.” 

She’s still giggling but the first time he shifts his hips just right, she stops, her breath escaping in a puff. “Fuck.” 

His hips slip back and forth slowly, testing different angles and when she stops breathing, face turning red before she exhales a long moan and begs him to stop teasing, he knows he’s about to put his fear of not knowing her body well enough to rest. The higher her voice goes, the higher he takes her leg until it’s over his shoulder and she’s sobbing as she screams through 1 then 3 then 4 orgasms and they’re both sweating and trembling (and he’s feeling triumphant and mad and his hips match that pace) until he spills into her, his own groan low and he weren’t so damn tired and it wouldn’t look so awkward, he’d probably pat himself on the back for a job well done. 

But just to make sure, he slips his hand down and gives her a soft nudge. She cringes and shakes her head, pleads softly, “No, no, no” and her thighs clamp together so he can’t touch her anymore. 

“Well, that was new, huh?” He’s proud as a peacock, buzzing off the adrenaline of having finally successfully conquered her elusive no-hands-orgasm. 

She pats his face haphazardly, getting more of his nose and mouth than his cheek. “You did good, boy.” And then she’s fast asleep and he feels he can comfortably give himself a pat on the back.


End file.
